


A Better Haircut

by codasaurusb



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: anyway so yeah hopefully I didn't get any aspects of canon wrong, but like.... magic exists, just know I tried, please let my gay ass imagine Daine with a pixie cut. please, this is after the intro but before the skinners, yes I know she has long hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codasaurusb/pseuds/codasaurusb
Summary: Sometimes, when Immortals start pouring into the world, a girl's just gotta make some changes.





	A Better Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> We're just going to pretend kitten is with T'kaa for this one bc I couldn't figure out how to make her narratively interesting. I'm sorry!

It was not a good winter for any Tortallan after the barrier collapsed.

Strictly speaking, that may be untrue. There were almost certainly those who rejoiced in the return of the immortals: scholars overjoyed to finally see the creatures they had studied up close and personal (although for some, it was the last thing they ever saw); those lucky few who only saw the occasional peaceful unicorn; unsavory characters taking advantage of the confusion to wreak more havoc in the ever more chaotic world they lived in. But for most, it was a hard time, and none took it harder than those in the country's service.

And amongst those unlucky, Veralidaine Sarrasri was having a particularly bad day. Having just left Port Caynn after negotiating an uneasy truce with warring parties of merfolk, she had been summoned to a small town near Corus that had, apparently, been having trouble with centaurs kidnapping their young women. Daine, impatient to get it over with, had earned a scolding from her teacher, Numair Salmalín, for being terse almost to the point of rudeness to the village elders. Not only that, but she had had to endure their pointed comments about the "unusual" way she was dressed. Numair had placed a warning hand on her shoulder and pointed out that Daine needed mobility she wouldn't have in a dress to help with their problems. The comments had subsided, but she had been well aware of the way they were looking at her.

_Just like Snowsdale,_ she thought bitterly, trekking doggedly through yet another mile of forest. _Seems to me they should be fair grateful to whoever was helping them- breeches or no._

Pushing such uncharitable thoughts from her mind, she reached out with her magic again. There was an eerie lack of animals in these woods, even considering it was still thawing from the winter- whether the centaurs were hunting them or whether they had fled of their own accord, she couldn't tell. She closed her eyes, focusing on stretching the limits of her search. She found a few hibernating squirrels, but they would be of no use. She could see the copper fires of the villages horses and dogs, their domestic animals, but evidently the rest had fled.

There was a sudden, distant shout of pain from behind her. Her eyes flew open as she turned and began running at a sprint towards the disturbance. As she neared, she could see flashes of black fire through the trees. If they were keeping Numair occupied for even this long, she knew there must be a fair amount of them, and if they had managed to sneak up and hurt Numair, they weren't inexperienced in combat. Reluctantly, half concentrating on running, she called to the horses and dogs to break away and aid them. They would need the help. As an afterthought, readying her bow, she asked the cats to send the villagers who could fight. She left it up to them how they would drive the two-leggers; cats were good at that.

A form streaked towards her at a dizzying speed. Caught off guard, she stumbled back as she drew the bow. A centaur man streaked past, a maniac grin on his face. Seconds later, he died with that grin, an arrow buried in his throat.

Daine, filled with the adrenaline of fighting that she had started to become accustomed to, nocked another arrow and crept towards the disturbance. Through the trees, she saw the long, lanky form of her friend, sagging down the trunk of a tree. One hand, glowing with magical fire, was outstretched in front of him. The other, wet with blood, was clutched against his chest where an arrow protruded. Daine had learned enough from the Riders' lessons she had seen to know that if he was losing blood that fast, they needed to get him to a healer, fast.

Distracted by the distressing scene, Daine almost didn't see the hand that came rapidly towards her. Almost in time, she ducked, then cried out in pain as the hand grabbed her hair and pulled cruelly. She felt what was unmistakably a knife press to her throat as a voice behind her murmured, "Drop the bow."

Before she could act, the knife dropped from the centaur's hand, and the pain from her scalp disappeared. She turned to see the centaur clutching his throat, eyes bulging, a cord of black fire around his neck. He dropped like a stone, and Daine stumbled away, towards Numair.

"Hello, magelet," he said, trying to smile, though he was ghastly pale. "Sorry to intercede, but it seemed like he was being very rude. Didn't even introduce himself."

Daine grimaced, fumbling her arrow back on to her bow and loosing it towards a centaur with the body of a piebald stallion, who dodged in the nick of time, the arrow grazing his arm. He melted back into the shadows. "Is now the time for your jokes? We're in a mess here, no mistake about it."

"About that," he said, sending a wave of black light into the forest, where something screamed in agony. "I assume you've asked your friends for help?"

"What little I can. Numair, there's hardly any of the People around, there-" She was cut off as first two, then three, then twelve horses broke past them, followed by a veritable tidal wave of dogs. In the distance, Daine heard the sound of men rushing towards them. "Oh. Never mind."

Numair smiled, then gasped and slid down the tree. Daine, torn between aiding her mentor and her friends, was swayed by a scream of pain as a horse caught a centaur's arrow in the flank. 

"You'd best be here and alive when I'm back," she warned Numair, quickly unclipping and handing him her flask of water. "Else I'll go to the peaceful realms myself to give you a piece of my mind." She dashed away, blinking rapidly, eyes smarting, to help the animals.

* * *

In the end, the cats had had an easy time corralling the humans into the woods. The villagers, despite the assurances of Numair, had been convinced that even two mages wouldn't be able to handle the threat. Already on guard, the horses streaking into the woods mindless of their tethers had been enough to warn them that something had gone wrong. Together with Daine and the animals she had summoned to fight on their behalf, the centaur herd was dealt with quickly and efficiently, and the village women were returned to their homes.

Numair, however, was a different story. Evidently, a centaur had somehow managed to get in range to shoot him without alerting him. The village healer, a frightened hedgewitch, managed to stop the bleeding, but no more. He drifted in and out of consciousness for the two days before a group of Riders arrived, along with a cart and instructions from King Jonathan himself to return to Corus. Daine was firmly instructed by the healer of the group to stay out of the way and stop hovering around him. By the time that they arrived in Corus, Daine was ready to scream.

She was, therefore, relieved to see a familiar face as they arrived: Onua Chamtong, the Riders' horsemistress. The moment she saw Daine, she headed straight for her.

"How is he?" she asked, enveloping Daine in a huge hug. When Daine pulled away, she saw the worry she felt was mirrored on the older woman's face.

"It's hard to tell," she replied truthfully. "The arrow may've been poisoned- they don't know why he's not back yet." She bit back tears. 

Onua immediately pulled her back into an embrace, and Daine buried her face into the woman's shoulder. "Don't worry yet. He's breathing and living yet. It may just be that he used too much of his Gift in the fight. Either way, he's here in Corus now, with the best healers. I'm sure Alanna will have him back to normal in a few days."

Daine pulled away, startled. "Alanna is here? Last I heard, she was fighting ogres up by Scanra!"

Onua smiled. "You think you're the only ones in Corus? Jonathan has brought most of the nobles he trusts here. Haven't you heard? There's going to be a ball to celebrate the spring equinox." Seeing Daine's startled look, Onua asked, amused, "You thought diplomacy was going to grind to a halt just because of a few immortals? Jon knows that he needs his allies more than ever, and they need him. Important people from everywhere are coming. Horselords, it's hard to get down to the stables without tripping over a Yamani prince or some such honored person." She made a face.

Despite the situation, Daine giggled. The amusement drained as she remembered the events of the past few months. "Onua, we can't just leave people to be picked off by Stormwings or some such!"

Onua grimaced. "I'm as unhappy as you. The Riders can handle immortals, but the king wants us here, to make sure nobody attacks those great folk while they're parading around and making speeches, and to look pretty at his parties. Besides," she said, lowering her voice, "it's good to remind the other countries that Tortall has strong mages and warriors, just in case they're thinking about hitting us while we're distracted." 

Daine reluctantly had to admit it made sense. She grimaced. "Will we have to be there all the time?"

"No, thank the gods. It's enough to be there for the equinox. But enough about that. I'm sure the king will talk about it soon enough. What happened with the centaurs?"

Daine told her the whole story as Onua guided her to her rooms. When she was finished, Onua shook her head. "It's a nasty business. Hopefully the other packs will learn from them. Did that centaur manage to hurt you?"

"No, and he wouldn't have even grabbed me if my gods-blessed hair hadn't got in the way." She shook her head, frustrated.

"You could always follow Alanna's example," the K'miri woman said, amused. "Crop your hair short, and nobody can grab it."

Daine gaped at her. "I could never! Folks already think I'm mad, what with my magic and the way I dress."

"If they already think you're mad, where's the harm? But it was just an idea." Both women turned as someone knocked on the door. "Come in!" Onua called. To Daine's dismay, King Jonathan opened the door. Reflexively, she jumped to her feet.

"Enough of that," he said kindly. "You're no doubt still weary from the road. I hate to intrude, but I wanted to see you before the politics start in earnest and I have to pretend I don't talk to anyone but nobles."

"Too late," Onua commented, kicking out a chair. "They'll already be telling their kings that you're mad for deigning to speak with us common folk."

"Don't remind me," Jonathan said, sitting heavily. "If I have to hear one more remark about how generous I am sending out my forces to help commoners, I swear to Mithros I'll have to send everyone home, royalty or no. So, tell us about these centaurs. Tricky things, I've heard. Do they reason like humans, or are they like beasts?"

"Hard to tell. One of them told me to put down my bow, so I'd say they're reasonable as humans, and just as nasty."

Jonathan winced. "That's unfortunate. Someone sighted one on the edge of the woods by Corus. We'll have to keep an eye on them."

As Daine once again filled Jonathan in on the events of the past few days, there was another knock on the door, and Daine glanced up to see Alanna. 

"Numair is fine," she said, after greeting them all. "Duke Baird is seeing to him. He just needs rest for another few days."

"Another few days?" Jonathan repeated, raising his brows. "Will-"

"Yes, he'll be able to attend the ball. Just don't expect him to perform any great feats." Alanna sat next to Daine, putting an arm around her. "And what about you, youngling? Are you injured?" Embarrassed by the concern, Daine shook her head. "Then I'm sure you'd like to have some time to wash up." The king and Onua, taking the hint, got up, saying their goodbyes. As Alanna was about to leave, Daine stopped her. Flushing, she asked, "Do people ever think... I mean, with your hair and all, do they think you're a man?"

Alanna stopped for a second, a look of complete bemusement on her face, before breaking out laughing. Her face flushed, Daine added, "That's not to say you look like a man, it's just-"

Alanna flapped her hand, cutting her off. "It's not that," she managed to say, still wheezing. "It's just... Daine, to get my knighthood, I had to pass for a man for years." She wiped her eyes. "But not anymore. The name of the Lioness is famed enough that people usually know who I am. Why?"

Daine shuffled her feet, looking down. "It's just that last time I was in a fight, my hair got in the way, and it's too cursed thick to tie it up, so I was thinking..." she trailed off.

"Ah." Alanna, done laughing, looked solemn. "Daine, I have a feeling that you'll be as famed as I am soon enough, but even so, it's your hair. You aren't beholden to anyone else to look the way they expect you to. If you need to look feminine, you can wear face paint, or earbobs. Can you wear earbobs? It's nothing to be afraid of, you just take a needle-"

"I can wear earbobs," Daine said haughtily. "Ma pierced my ears when I was a little girl. Who would be afraid of a prick from a needle?"

"Ah," Alanna said, looking inexplicably red, "of course. Nothing to worry about. Anyway, if it doesn't work out, I'm sure you'll find a mage who will help you grow it back." 

Daine nodded, still thinking. "Thanks, Lioness."

* * *

Daine visited Numair the next morning. He was exhausted, but managed to give a wan smile as she walked into his room.

"Hello, magelet," he croaked, before clearing his throat. "Sorry for the worry."

"Sorry for leaving you there," Daine blurted out. It had been on her mind, that if she had stayed by his side, somehow she could have helped him.

"Not at all," he said, struggling to sit up. "Had you tried to, I would have insisted you help your friends. It was thanks to them that we won, wasn't it? I'm afraid I missed most of the details."

Daine nodded. "Thanks, Numair."

She stayed for a while after that, talking about the centaur attack and the upcoming ball. It was only after she left to let him rest that she thought to ask him about her hair.

_Well, that'll be a shock,_ she thought, amused.

* * *

"Ye want me to do what?" The hairdresser asked, her eyes bulging slightly.

Daine sighed. "I know it sounds fair mad, but-"

"I should say so!" The woman said, gesticulating with her shears. Daine was almost afraid to keep talking, lest she get attacked. "Long hair is a woman's beauty! Do ye want to look sick? Or just like a man?"

"Neither," a familiar voice said. Daine looked up to see the Lioness, lounging against the door frame. "Sorry to barge in like this, Daine, but I heard you had called for a hairdresser, and I thought I'd pop by." Turning to the woman, she said, "So, tell me, what about me? Where do I fall? Sick, or man?"

"I meant no disrespect, Lady," the woman said. She had gone very pale.

"I had no doubt of that," Alanna said. "So how about you cut my friend's hair, and she pays you, and we forget the whole thing?"

The hairdresser gulped and got to work.

* * *

"I have to say," Alanna said, studying Daine, "I think it suits you."

Daine smiled at her friend. "Thanks, Lioness. My head feels so light."

Alanna chuckled and ruffled Daine's newly shorn hair. "Trust me, I know. I had hair down to here when I ran off to join the knights." 

"Horselords help me, what is this?" Onua had entered the room, dressed in a fine brown silk gown, her own hair pinned up. "Daine! You look wonderful!" Turning to Alanna, she said wryly, "His Majesty asked me to remind you that you need to get ready. He specifically asked me to tell you that if you are late, he'll banish you to the Scanran border."

Alanna got up. "There goes that idea," she said, and left.

"So you actually did it!" Onua sat down. "Can I touch it?" 

"Go ahead," Daine said, inclining her head. "I'm still getting used to it myself."

Onua ran a hand over the girl's hair. "I expect a lot of people will stare at you," she warned Daine. 

"I know." Daine got up and picked up the lovely pale green gown she was wearing. "Can you help me into this dress?"

Tying the back of the dress, Onua paused. "Does Numair know you did this?"

Daine grinned. "Nope."

* * *

True to Onua's predictions, Daine did get a lot of stares. Many of the women turned to whisper. Daine pretended to ignore them. It wasn't that she felt manly, not in this dress, wearing this face paint. Mostly, she just felt light. _Maybe I'll go back to long hair eventually, when I get tired of being stared at,_ she thought, _but it's not like I feel horrible._

Across the room, crowded with dancing guests in the middle, she saw Numair, looking resplendent in his preferred luxurious clothes. She pushed through the crowd until she reached him, his back turned, watching the dancers with a strange kind of wistfulness.

"Numair?"

He turned. For a split second Daine saw a lack of recognition in his face, blossoming into utter shock. His mouth fell open. "Daine! You..." He stopped, seemingly unable to parse words. He looked her over, dress, hair, and all, and turned scarlet. "You cut your hair! You look..." he turned even more red, "Pretty."

Daine had never seen him more flustered. "Pretty?" she teased. "People say I look like a man."

"Never," he said faintly. "I mean... it looks very good on you, magelet. Shows off your lovely neck." He seemed to have gotten himself back under control, albeit a bit wide eyed.

"There's a relief," Daine said. "Nobody else seems to think so." She gestured to the whispering couples. A pair had stopped mid dance to stare.

"They just haven't recognized you yet," he said airily. "Or they're trying to figure out if you're the Lioness."

Daine giggled. "Come on, Numair," she said, taking his hand, "let's dance."

And so they did.


End file.
